


What You're Running From

by deandratb



Series: Tumblr Micro Requests [17]
Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: Dembe Reference, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-28
Updated: 2016-04-28
Packaged: 2018-06-04 23:59:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6681202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deandratb/pseuds/deandratb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt fic and angsty present. <i>She didn’t want her life to be dependent on him taking care of her.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	What You're Running From

**Author's Note:**

  * For [broken_hearted_bard](https://archiveofourown.org/users/broken_hearted_bard/gifts).



> Disclaimed. Prompt: **things you said when you thought i was asleep**

She didn’t have anywhere else to go. Free didn’t mean in the clear, not after the manhunt and the Post Office and the plea deal. So Red showing up when she was released– _Red being the only person she could count on, again_ –was a welcome surprise.

Somehow, he understood that she didn’t want to talk, about anything. When she stopped clinging to him like the lifeline he was, he ushered her into the car without a word. Dembe took them back to the latest safe house, a Georgetown brownstone, and Red respected her silence while she tried to sort out her feelings.

She was exhausted, but also feeling a strange exhilaration–giddy with relief. As soon as Ressler caught her, she had begun preparing to die. If there was anything she understood to be certain, it was the Cabal’s reach, and the very real possibility that she wouldn’t make it out alive.

_Now that she still had a life to live, what was she going to make of it?_

“Thanks,” she said softly when he shut the front door behind her, finally disturbing the quiet. “If I couldn’t borrow your couch tonight, I’m not sure where I would go.”

He stared at her. “Lizzie, you’re not sleeping on the couch.” With a light hand on the small of her back, he directed her down the hall. “There’s a spare bed. You’ll be safe here; I’m just next door if you need anything.”

Liz nodded, offered him a grateful smile, and fell asleep almost immediately–fully clothed and with door open. _It wasn’t as though she had pajamas on hand, and what would be the point of feigning modesty now, after weeks together in close quarters?_

****

He found her there, still sprawled out atop the covers, on his way to bed. Shaking his head, he grabbed the folded quilt from the dresser and draped it over her.

“It’s going to get cold,” Red told her in a low voice as he brushed hair out of her eyes, then stepped back. “And harder. I’m so sorry, Lizzie, that I couldn’t just make it all go away.”

He paused just inside the doorframe, let himself gaze at her for a moment. _He didn’t lose her after all. There she was, still breathing._

“I’m going to find a way to fix it, though. I just need some time. And you’ll be okay. You’re stronger than you know.”

When he shut his own bedroom door, but didn’t lock it, in case she needed him, Liz opened her eyes. For some reason, Red approaching had woken her–despite how gentle he was. She couldn’t tell him that she was awake; she didn’t feel capable of facing the heavy guilt in his tone right now. 

Unable to relax again, she got up and left the borrowed room. The brownstone was cozy, less cluttered than most of the places she’d seen Red live in over the last two years–somebody else’s photos adorned the walls, but it was free of bookshelves and excess furniture. 

Liz was about to curl up on the sleek black sofa when it hit her.

_The brownstone had two bedrooms._

It was a temporary home, like all of his safe houses, but he had chosen it deliberately– **like all of his safe houses.**

For this day, he had chosen a secluded place in a quiet neighborhood, with two bedrooms. There was no reason for that, except this exact situation. He anticipated that she would come to stay. He knew that she would need him.

She was free now. She had a second chance at life. _She didn’t want her life to be dependent on him taking care of her._

He could never be expected to treat her as an equal–she could never expect him to finally give her answers–if she remained the girl he protected and aided because of blame he carried from the past.

She was not afraid. _She refused to consider the possibility that she was scared of the importance of this gesture._ It wasn’t about what him giving her a place meant; it was about what it would mean if she accepted it.

_It would mean too much._

She wrote him a note, something short and to the point. Complications followed wherever they went, and she wanted her new life to be simple. 

She didn’t tell him that.

****

“I can’t stay,” she whispered as she paused by his side. “I hope you’ll understand. I need…” She shook her head. “I’m really grateful, but I can’t stay.” 

Red waited until he heard the door click shut behind her before he sat up and stared at the note on the bed.

He was a light sleeper; life was safer that way. So, of course he heard every word…of course, he considered interrupting her. Stopping her. Doing **something.**

Instead, he let her go.

_She had never been his to hold on to._

**Author's Note:**

> More happy birthday week wishes to [broken_hearted_bard!](http://archiveofourown.org/users/broken_hearted_bard) It'll never make sense, but I had fun trying. <3


End file.
